“Prove that by going into it for one hour. I have seen you put a man in it for six.”
“Now, do you really think I am going to make myself a laughing-stock to the whole prison?”
“Well, but consider what a triumph you are denying yourself to prove me a liar and yourself a true man. It would be the greatest feat of dialects the world ever saw; and you need not stand on your dignity—better men than you have been in it, and there goes one of them. Here, Evans, come this way. We want you to go into the punishment-jacket.” The man recoiled with a ludicrous face of disgust and dismay. Mr. Lacy smiled.
“Now, your reverence, don't think of it. I don't want to earn no more guineas that way.”
“What does he mean?” asked Mr. Lacy.
“I gave him a guinea to go into it for half an hour, and he calls it a hard bargain.”
“Oh, you have been in it, then? Tell me, is it torture or is it only confinement?”
“Con-finement! con-found such confinement, I say. Yes, it is torture and the worst of torture. Ask his reverence, he has been in the oven as well as me.”
Mr. Lacy opened his eyes wide.
“What!” said he, with a half grin, “have you been in it?”